


Pickpocket

by BDBriggs



Series: Briggs the Seeker [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Casual mentions of sex, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Suggestive Themes, Takes place at the beginning of Cataclysm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-09-19 21:45:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17009781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BDBriggs/pseuds/BDBriggs
Summary: Briggs; human rogue, famous adventurer, hero of Stormwind, is on a mission to pick King Varian Wrynn's pocket. Why? Because stealing things is obviously the best solution to relationship problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the beginning of Cataclysm, right before Briggs leaves on the expedition to Vash'jir.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this, I hope you enjoy!!

Briggs is on a mission.

This isn’t one of her standard missions. Standard missions usually involve killing some number of enemies, escorting someone out of danger, or obtaining some number of items for whatever town or person pays her to do it. This, however, is much different.

Briggs; human rogue, famous adventurer, hero of the Alliance, is creeping into Stormwind Keep in order to pickpocket King Varian Wrynn. She isn’t being paid to do it. This isn’t a quest someone gave her. No, this is personal.

She got the idea a few weeks ago, when Briggs announced to her lover that she was planning on leaving for Vash’jir with Admiral Taylor. Varian had been…less than thrilled. He’d actually asked her not to go. And it isn’t as though Briggs doesn’t understand; she knows exactly what’s going through her lover’s mind. Their relationship is still new. Varian is reluctant to let her go directly into the path of danger—especially when his last wife had been killed by something far less violent than naga. Briggs understands.

That doesn’t mean she has to _like_ it, however.

So here she is, creeping slowly around royal guards, making her way into the throne room. Briggs plans to sneak around Varian, pull something valuable out of his pocket, and then make her way up to his study to wait for him. When he arrives in his study, he’ll be stunned to see her sitting at his desk, casually toying with—well, whatever she ends up stealing. She’ll prove to him that she’s capable of being careful, and also capable of moving unnoticed should something go wrong.

The more impressive part of all this is that she managed to get into the city without being noticed at all. Usually, a guard would ride forward and inform the King that she’d arrived. Instead of taking the portal from Dalaran to Stormwind, however, she took the portal to Ironforge and then flew to Eastvale Logging Camp, near her own home. Briggs rode home, changed into one of her old leather outfits from before Northrend, swapped her horse for her son’s, and rode to Stormwind. She then set off into the Deeprun Tram, where few guards were posted—she might have avoided the extra step, but stealthing in the middle of a crowded area tended to look suspicious. So once she reached the tram, she stealthed back out and made her way into the Keep. Nobody had noticed her thus far.

Briggs finally reaches the top of the walkway, where she can see into the throne room. What she sees makes her stop in her tracks, however.

Varian is _sitting down_ in his throne.

Briggs’ jaw drops. She’s never seen him sit in his throne, not once in all the times she’s visited him here. He prefers to stand, when he can. Now, though, he’s sitting in his throne with one hand pressed to his temple as if to soothe a headache. He, Anduin, and General Marcus Jonathan are clustered together, speaking quietly. Whatever she’s barging in on, it’s important, and probably stressful.

Whatever. She’s a damn good rogue. She’s pickpocketed enemies in worse situations than this. Hell, she’s pickpocketed enemy Horde soldiers in the middle of a battleground. She can pickpocket the King of Stormwind.

Briggs sneaks slowly around the room, careful to keep her head low so that the royal guards don’t see something odd. She’s short anyways; crouched over, she’s tiny enough to avoid detection. She makes it to the back of the throne without incident. This is the hard part—avoiding detection from the two people looking _directly_ at Varian, as well as the host of royal guards around the edges of the room. The throne is set in the middle of the damn room, so she’s especially worried about the guards.

The fact that Varian is _sitting down_ is also mildly infuriating. How is she supposed to get into his pockets when he’s bent at the waist? And sitting in a chair she can’t reach through? Briggs suppresses a frustrated sigh. She’ll just have to wait him out.

An hour passes. Briggs tunes out the conversation in front of her; it’s something about the defenses of the city, and not only is it boring, it’s also probably classified information she shouldn’t hear. She keeps her eyes trained on Varian’s pocket, oddly enough, to remind herself why she’s here.

Finally, Varian shifts in his seat. He leans onto his right side so that he can see a scroll Anduin is showing him. Briggs leans forward and carefully slips her hand into his pocket. Her hand is _just_ tiny enough to fit without him noticing. She can’t help but spare a thought that she usually slips her hand into his pants for a much different purpose—but she slams the lid on that train of thought before she can snicker and blow her cover.

It takes a moment of careful searching, but at last her hand touches something other than the inside of his pocket. It’s a little larger than anything she expected to steal, but it will have to do. She will _not_ risk moving to Anduin’s side of the throne to try the other pocket. She grasps the thing and gently tugs it, angling it slightly so the movement is less noticeable. Another moment and then…Briggs grins widely. She has her prize.

She slips it into her own pocket and creeps slowly out of the throne room. It’s a little tricky to get past the royal guards at the door to Varian’s study, but she leans down and tugs on one of the guard’s greaves, enough that he has to bend down to fix it. The sound of the door opening and closing goes unheard over the clanking of the guard’s heavy armor.

Briggs stands up straight and laughs lightly. She did it! Now all she has to do is wait for Varian to return to his study, as he always does before dinner. Briggs scoots a pile of paperwork off to the side and plops directly onto the desk. After a moment of deliberation, she pulls out the thing in her pocket to see exactly what it is that she stole from her lover.

Whatever it is, it's heavy. She frowns. It’s awfully large, filling more than the palm of her hand. It’s a miracle she managed to get it out of his pocket at all. And it seems to be made at least partly out of gold—explains the weight. The outside is extremely ornate, and Briggs marvels at the time and money that must have gone into making it. It has a worn leather strap connected to it, leading her to believe that this bauble has seen a lot of use. Briggs fiddles with it for a moment before finding a clasp that opens it. She pulls the lid back and gasps, stunned.

It’s a compass. A very ornate, expensive, and pretty compass. But what catches her eye isn’t the compass itself—it’s the what’s in the lid. Inside is a tiny painting of Anduin, no larger than the palm of her hand. In it, Anduin’s youthful face stares back at her. The painter accurately captured the brightness of his blond hair and the sparkle in his blue eyes.

Briggs feels guilt curl low in her stomach. This is something that would be missed. Varian might actually register its absence and be frantic when he comes to his study. Perhaps she shouldn’t have stolen something so personal.

There’s nothing she can do about it now. Varian might be upset with her for taking it, but she couldn’t have known exactly what she was stealing while rooting around in his pocket.  

With a heavy sigh, Briggs settles back to wait. She might pull down a book off the shelves if she gets bored, but it’s likely that Varian will come back soon, and she doesn’t want to have to shuffle the book away quickly. She goes through a number of poses on the desk—standing but leaning her backside up against the front of it, sitting cross legged in the middle, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed at the knee—before moving to his chair instead. She settles down low in the chair with her booted feet propped up on the desk (she even scoots his paperwork to the _other_ side of the desk to do so). Her pose is casual, lazy even, but the golden compass she tosses in the air and the smug grin on her face should set Varian’s heart racing.

She doesn’t have to wait long. Varian’s heavy footfalls sound down the hallway not quite half an hour later. Briggs schools the grin on her face down to acceptable levels of smug as she hears him greet the guards and open the door. He doesn’t notice her right away—she hasn’t started playing with the compass yet—and he turns away from her to set his sword, cloak, and much of his heavy plate down on the table by the door. With a weary sigh he turns back to his desk—and stops dead in his tracks as he sees her. She’s started tossing the compass up in the air casually, and Varian’s eyes follow it up and down, up and down.

Varian’s eyes narrow and focus back on her face, his expression souring when he takes in the smug grin on her face. He walks slowly over to her, each step taking an eternity, before coming to a stop on her right side. He crosses his arms and leans against the desk in what might be a casual position except that he towers over her like this. Her feet are propped up on the other side of the desk, so she’s completely open. Not that she expects him to hurt her, of course, but they both know it’s intimidating.

“Usually someone informs me when you’ve arrived,” Varian starts casually. Ah, so he’s miffed about that. He’s obviously noticed that his compass is in her hands, and realizes something is up by the smug grin on her face, but he’s playing it safe by asking about something else.

Smart man.

Briggs hums. “Oh? Nobody told you, this time?” She takes care to keep her voice quiet so the guards outside don’t hear her.

Varian frowns. He hadn’t expected her to dodge the question. “No. And I didn’t see you walk through the throne room to get to here, either.” Whether consciously or not, Varian mirrors her quiet tone.

Briggs’ smile widens before she can stop it. “How strange.”

Silence stretches between them, both waiting each other out. Briggs can see the exact moment Varian snaps—a muscle in his jaw twitches before his eyes narrow again and he opens his mouth to growl, “what did you do?”

Briggs laughs at the accusatory tone. “Nothing horrible,” she promises. “I snuck into the city so no one would notice me and send word to you. Then I snuck into the throne room and stole this,” she waves the compass for emphasis, “and then I snuck in here and waited for you to be done talking with Anduin and the General.

Varian’s eyes widen gradually over the course of her explanation. He looks both stunned and awed. “You—you actually—” he breaks off and starts again, “How did you?— _How_??”

Briggs laughs again. “Very carefully,” she snarks back at him.

Varian shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Alright,” he says slowly, “let me get this straight.” He holds up a hand to count each offense on his fingers, “You came into Stormwind completely undetected, stealthed into the throne room where I was having an important conversation with the General and my son, _stole my compass from my pocket_ , and then stealthed here. All without alerting the guards, or me?”

“You got it,” Briggs smirks again.

Varian quiets for a moment, a look of exasperation crossing his face. He looks torn between congratulating her and scolding her. Finally, he lets out a bewildered, “Why?”

Briggs shrugged. “I wanted to prove to you that I’m not completely helpless.”

Varian’s eyebrows knit together. “I know you’re not helpless, Briggs,” he says, voice impossibly soft.

“You don’t want me to go to Vash’jir,” Briggs points out. “I wanted to show you that I’m not just capable of slaughtering things—I’m capable of being _very_ careful, and I can keep out of trouble when I need to.”

Varian looks down at his still-crossed arms. Briggs lets him mull over his words for a while. When he finally speaks, his voice is as soft as it is when they lay in bed together. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you to take care of yourself. You’ve saved me and my son multiple times, and you’re so strong both on and off the field. I never had any real doubt in your abilities.”

“I know,” Briggs murmurs. She swings her feet off the desk and sits up straight to look him in the eye better. “Varian, I understand. You’re worried. This is all so new to us and you don’t want to let go of me just yet. I _understand_.”

Varian sighs heavily and looks away. “That doesn’t make what I said _right_.”

“Perhaps not,” Briggs says, “but it’s alright. I forgive you.” When Varian doesn’t look back at her, she stands up to be a little closer to him. “Varian. I was never really _upset_ with you. I was annoyed, sure, but I wanted to prove to you that I could be careful. I didn’t exactly mean to pick a fight with you.”

Varian’s eyes finally slide back to hers. “You’re not angry?”

“No,” Briggs shakes her head. “Are you?”

“No,” Varian smiles a little. “C’mere, you.” He cups her face in his hands and hunches down towards her. Briggs stands up on her tippy toes to meet his lips in a searing kiss. The kiss lasts much longer than she intended, and both are panting by the time they finally pull apart. Varian wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins at her. “May I have my compass back, though?” His arms find their way around her so that his hands can rest gently on her hips.

Briggs laughs and passes him the compass. “It’s a pretty thing. The painting is well done, too.”

Varian beams. “I’m impressed you got it out of my pocket,” he says, sliding it into his pocket. “It isn’t small or light.”

“I’m a little impressed, myself,” Briggs admits. “It wasn’t easy to get it while you were sitting down.”

Varian bursts out laughing, albeit quietly. “I was sitting down at the time? You’re insane!”

Briggs grins. “As I said, it wasn’t easy!” They both laugh for a moment more, still locked in an easy embrace. Briggs decides, after a moment, to share her thought from earlier. “I couldn’t help thinking that usually I reach into your pants for a much different reason.”

She watches Varian’s brain stutter to a halt before starting back up again in overdrive. “You—what—Briggs!” He whisper-yells at her. Briggs starts laughing all over again, this time burying her head in his chest to muffle the endless stream of giggles. “You are going to be the death of me,” Varian mutters. Just to prove his point, she slides her hands down his stomach teasingly, leaving no doubt in his mind as to where her destination is. He pulls her back so he can look into her eyes. “Briggs,” he asks, innocently enough to make Briggs’ hands stop in their tracks. “Tell me. How were you planning on getting _out_ of the keep without anyone noticing you?”

“Ah, fuck,” Briggs says absently. How _is_ she getting out of the keep? Will she need to get out of the city, too? No one saw her enter. _No one saw her enter_. If she suddenly appears, people are going to ask questions.

Varian grins, clearly pleased with himself. “You might want to get on that.”

Briggs scowls. “What I _want_ is to get on _you_ ,” she grumbles, “but fine. I guess you’re not getting any tonight, then.”

Varian laughs a little, unmoved by her threat, and walks past her. He quietly opens the window at the back of the study and looks around. Seemingly satisfied, he turns back to her and jerks his thumb in the direction of the window. “If you can get up to my room without being noticed, I’ll ride back to your home tomorrow morning and spend the weekend with you,” he offers.

“You want me to climb to your room from _here_?” Briggs sputters in disbelief. His room is on the other side of the keep. Varian, damn him, just grins at her. She considers saying no out of spite, but the prospect of three whole nights with her lover is too sweet to pass up. “Fine,” she grumbles, “but if I fall and snap my neck, you’re to blame.”

Varian pulls her into one last heated kiss before she can climb out the window. “Good luck, and I’ll see you after dinner,” he says cheerfully. Clearly, she’s not the only one looking forward to tonight.

Briggs flips him off and pulls herself up onto the windowsill. “See you in a couple of hours,” she says, and pulls herself up by the edges of the white bricks above it. She’s getting three days of quality time with her lover, damn it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briggs returns from Admiral Taylor's ill-fated expedition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would not believe how much difficulty I had with this chapter. If you spot any errors, please let me know so I can fix them.

It is _good_ to see Stormwind again, Briggs muses as she approaches the city on a flight master’s gryphon. The bright tile roofs and glowing white stone are a comforting sight after spending so much time away from home. The sounds of the city echo up from down below; the low murmur of voices from the Trade District, blacksmith’s hammers clanging in the Dwarven District, the chiming of the bell tower. The familiarity brings a smile to her face.

Truthfully, Briggs hadn’t meant to be gone for so long. She and Varian had argued for days over whether or not she should go with Admiral Taylor to investigate the disturbance off the west coast of Eastern Kingdoms. Varian had been appalled at the idea; their relationship was still new, and he didn’t want to lose her so soon. He argued that it was too dangerous. Briggs had…well, she’d picked his pocket to prove him wrong. She fights down a wry smile at the thought. Obviously, she’d walked in and picked her King’s pocket to prove a point. What else was she supposed to do? Briggs shakes her head at her own foolishness. She _had_ proved her point, but perhaps she could have done so a bit more eloquently.

What bothers her is that Varian had been right.

Admiral Taylor’s company had been ambushed by naga almost immediately. They’d all been dragged under the ocean to their watery graves…but they’d managed to procure a way to breathe underwater and had simply fought the naga from there. What started out as a scouting mission had turned into a full-on offensive as they fought their way through Vash’jir. She’d planned to be gone only a few weeks but was gone for the better part of a year.

The Admiral had warned her about what she might face when she returned to Stormwind. He reminded her that their entire expedition had gone missing, and that everyone in Stormwind likely thought them all dead. It was highly possible that debris from their wrecked ships had washed ashore, perhaps even with the bodies of those slain in the initial attack. Varian had every reason to be distraught at the loss of his troops. Moreover, he had plenty of reason to be upset with _her_ for leaving. Briggs had gritted her teeth and procured a gryphon anyways. They’d won their fight against the naga, whether Stormwind knew about it or not. It was time for her to return home and see her sister and children.

And Varian.

Briggs pulls her hood up before the gryphon lands. She still has her old set of armor in her bag, but she wears newer, better gear that she’d procured in Vash’jir. No one will recognize her if she covers her face. She dismounts the gryphon a little unsteadily—not only was the flight long, but she hasn’t walked on dry land much in the last few months, so it takes her a few moments to get her balance right. Instead of heading to her sister’s inn, Briggs turns right and heads to the Keep. She’d promised Admiral Taylor that she would hand his report to the King.

Thankfully, no one recognizes her on the way to the Keep. And not that she’d planned it this way, but her gryphon flew in at the perfect time; the sun is beginning to set, so Varian would likely have moved to his study already. Briggs hands her report to one of the guards in the throne room and hopes he’ll understand that she needs to visit the King. The guards would certainly recognize her voice, and she doesn’t want to give herself away by speaking. The guard startles at the sight of the seal, gives her a long look, and finally waves her off towards the King’s study. She tries not to laugh at the guard’s reaction and bows deeply before making her way further into the Keep.

Briggs takes a deep breath to steady herself before she knocks on the heavy door. A muffled “Enter!” sounds from within, and she smiles. It is good to hear her lover’s voice again. She enters the room and closes the door behind her for privacy. After a brief moment of deliberation, Briggs walks up and silently places the Admiral’s report on the King’s desk.

Varian doesn’t look up immediately, obviously immersed in writing notes on a scroll, which gives her a chance to look him over. He’d ditched his heavy armor for the night and wears a rich blue tunic with brown trousers. His long, wild hair is bound in the usual high ponytail. He’s as handsome as ever, Briggs thinks fondly.

Finally, Varian finishes writing and turns his attention to the report. He visibly freezes when he sees the Admiral’s seal, and then he tears into the report with shaking hands, his eyes scanning it frantically. Briggs’ heart twinges. He was worried.

When at last he finishes reading and looks up at her, Briggs smiles softly. “I’m sorry,” she says simply. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone with Admiral Taylor; we ran into bad trouble, just like you were afraid we might. But I ignored you and went anyways. And I’m sorry I was gone for so long. Believe me when I say I came back as soon as I could.”

Varian had remained silent during her speech, his jaw slack and his eyes blown comically wide. As soon as she finishes talking, Varian rounds his desk to stand in front of her and pull her into a tight embrace. Briggs wraps her arms around his middle and buries her face in his tunic.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Varian whispers into her hood. He sweeps the garment back and presses a kiss into her hair.

Briggs’ chest feels tight with emotion. “I know,” she murmurs back, “I’m so sorry. I never meant to worry you.”

Varian squeezes her even more tightly. “It’s alright,” he says, pulling back to look her in the eye. His own are bright with tears that threaten to spill over. He cups her cheek gently. “It’s not your fault. I’m not—I’m not angry with you. I was terrified, but I’m not angry.”

Briggs frowns. “You’re not?” She feels tears gather in her own eyes.

“I’m not,” Varian promises. He leans down and kisses her once, twice, before pulling away again. Tears begin to stream down his cheeks, but the gentlest smile she’s ever seen spreads across his face. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” Briggs eyes him suspiciously, uncertain if he’s telling the truth or not. Varian catches on to her suspicion and laughs gently, brushing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away her tears. “Your own children convinced me not to be angry or upset. They both knew you’d turn up eventually…they told me it was just part of your job. They missed you, but they seemed so unconcerned.”

Briggs’ heart swells with pride, though she does feel a twinge of guilt. She needs to visit her children as soon as possible. She’s been away for far too long, even though she knows that they are strong and know how to survive without her for a time. “They’re rather unflappable when it comes to me disappearing,” Briggs admits sheepishly. “I…I suppose I’ve done it a lot. I love my children dearly and make sure to spend as much time with them as I can, but they and I both know that I have a job to do, and a dangerous job at that. We’ve all come to terms with the fact that sometimes I can’t come back every weekend, and that someday I may never come back at all. I hope that day is far, far away, but it’s always a possibility.”

Varian nods. “I…I’m doing my best to come to terms with that fact as well.”

“I’m sorry you have to,” Briggs says earnestly, “you have lost far too much in your life to lose a lover as well.”

Varian’s eyes go soft. “I’m sorry for it as well, but I won’t let it stop you,” he promises. “You were right, too; you’re capable of taking care of yourself. Do what you need to do. I love you, but the world needs you.” He bends down to kiss her again. “Just come back to me?”

“Always,” Briggs whispers against his lips. She stands on her tippy toes to ease the angle on their necks and kisses him again and again.

They’ll be alright, she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the end of this fic! I hadn't meant to make another chapter, but I felt it was necessary after I posted the first.

**Author's Note:**

> And the next morning they realize that Briggs still has to get out of the city without being noticed...


End file.
